


A Rude Awakening

by GraciousK



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5334551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraciousK/pseuds/GraciousK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean awakens to the sound of porn coming from the next room...</p><p>Prompt: "On the first day of Christmas, Supernatural gave to me: an angel watching pornography."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Rude Awakening

Dean was so close to sleep when he heard the sound that he almost mistook it for a dream. It was enough for him to become momentarily alert, instinctively gripping the knife under his pillow. There were no shadowy figures in the room, no movement except for Sam's breathing.

He heard it again.

Dean glanced over at Sammy. Not much had changed; the kid could still sleep through damn near anything. The sounds were distant, hard to make out. Might be coming from the next room, might be coming from outside. No reason to interrupt Sam's beauty sleep. 

Dean rose cautiously from his bed. He stalked through the room with knife in hand, seeing nothing in the darkness except their own belongings. When he opened the bedroom door, Dean paused. The noises were suddenly recognizable: the familiar sound of people fucking.

Dean's grip on his knife was less sure, his defensive stance gone slack. He glanced back at Sam - no change - and then exited, closing the bedroom door behind him. A ghostly glow flickered in the living room. With each silent step down the hallway, the sounds became clearer. Definitely fucking. Definitely familiar. Faint illumination, as if from the glow of... _son of a bitch._ Someone, or something, was replaying the porno Dean had watched earlier that very goddamn day.

Dean didn't know entirely what to expect when he crept into the doorway, but he was completely unprepared for what he saw: the angel Castiel spread-eagle on the couch with a furrowed brow, parted lips, and a screamingly obvious tent in his slacks.

Already primed for a stealthy ambush, Dean's instinct was to tense - hold his breath, grip the knife, prepare to spring from the shadows. The sight of Cas made him freeze in place, not at all because it turned him on, but because his hunter's eye was trained to observe before acting. It wasn't Dean's fault that Cas's wide stance showcased the erection straining against his fly, or that the lines of Cas's body drew the eye straight to his groin.

Castiel's gaze was fixed on the television, and from this distance Dean could hear exactly what was happening onscreen as coy pillow talk turned into sloppy sucking sounds. Dean could picture the epic blowjob from memory. It made Dean's own dick twitch, so he couldn't blame Cas for the hard-on that had him shifting in his seat. But he didn't understand why Cas would be _here_. In the middle of the night. Watching porno.

More than that, Dean didn't understand why Cas was just _sitting_ there. Porn was a facilitator, not a main attraction. But Cas wasn't facilitating anything, except for a look of intense concentration and the neediest boner that Dean had ever seen. Cas shifted again, dick straining in his trousers, as if trying to apply pressure just by squirming in his clothes.

Dean pressed the flat of his palm against his own sympathetically hardening cock through his boxer-briefs. _C'mon, buddy, it's right there. You can touch it._

It was a strange relief when Cas moved to cup the underside of his erection, sighing as he tugged at himself, the crotch of his pants so tight that Dean could see the outline of his cockhead. With all his squirming earlier, Dean guessed that Cas was poking through whatever underwear he wore, only one thin layer between his hand and his dick. Castiel's hips canted in frustratingly small movements, doing little but to adjust the angle of his dick against the fabric dragging over it.

Dean's dick bobbed hard and insistent against his palm, and he let his fingers curl around the weight of it. Here Dean was, practically ready to rub one out himself, and he was only watching porn secondhand. Castiel was staring straight at it, hard as an iron bar. _Why isn't he beating off?_

"Because I don't know how," Castiel growled, quiet but still audible, looking right at him.

Dean startled, feeling a sudden flush of something like embarassment. "Cas?" he whispered.

"You think I didn't know you were there?" Cas's voice was shot through with irritation, which snapped Dean out of it.

He took a few steps into the room, barely glancing at the TV screen. A closeup of a woman's face, lips smacking around a thick, hard cock. Dean refused to feel ashamed of his own hard-on, though he kept a modest hand over himself, angling it downwards. _This is my place, dammit,_ my _porn._ "Cas, what are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?"

Any hope of a snappy comeback was forgotten as Dean's gaze swept over Cas's limbs still sprawled wide, hand still moving inexpertly between his legs, still so hard he was visibly throbbing. Castiel's squinting eyes flicked back to the porno. "I was hoping to receive instruction from this video."

Dean was suddenly very aware of the grunts and moans coming from the screen. The wet sucking sounds were replaced with the slick rhythm of a stroking hand, a woman's voice demanding, "Cum for me." Dean turned just in time to catch the money shot. "Yeah, baby," crooned the pornstar, sticking her tongue out to catch spurt after spurt of thick cum in her open mouth. It dripped down her chin and onto her heaving breasts.

"That appears to be the goal," Castiel said flatly. "But I don't know how to achieve it."

The porno cut abruptly to a close-up of a new couple, tanned hands squeezing a different set of huge tits with large, dark nipples. Dean looked away from the screen and back at Castiel, who was gripping his cock through his pants now, mimicking what he saw on screen. The cloth bunched between his fingers as he squeezed, then relaxed.

Dean's face felt hot. His own dick ached for attention, pressing steadily against his concealing hand. The exaggerated porno moans continued in the background. 

"Well there's your problem," Dean found himself saying without thinking. "You're not gonna learn anything about sex from porn."

Dean looked back at the screen. The angle was wider, displaying a couple going at it in a seated reverse cowgirl. The woman bounced on the man's lap while he continued kneading her tits. It was hot enough to make Dean's hand grope thoughtlessly at his dick, applying a gentle twisting friction through his undershorts.

When Dean looked back at Cas, he saw that the angel was watching him instead of the porno. His hand was mirroring Dean's, the expression on Cas's face somehow both innocent and perverse in equal measure.

_Yeah. I could teach him a thing or two, alright..._

Dean leaned down and shoved at Cas's shoulder, mumbling, "Make some room, willya?" Cas looked almost offended at first, but he scooted to the end of the couch without protest. Dean sat with his back against the sofa arm, legs splayed comfortably wide. If he turned his head one way he could see the two actors fucking on screen; the other way, Cas and his raging hard-on. Dean popped the button on his underwear, pleased to see Cas's eyes go wide at the peek of exposed flesh in the gap.

Dean slipped his fingers through the opening, wrapping them around his shaft, all too aware of how visible he was despite keeping it in his underwear for now. "It's easier if it's skin-on-skin," Dean said by way of explanation, not at all because he was self-conscious about the way Cas was devouring Dean's every movement with his eyes. "Step one: whip it out," Dean instructed.

Castiel unzipped his fly as instructed, shamelessly freeing his cock. Now it was Dean's turn to take it in: the thick shaft and even thicker head, jutting flushed and eager from between Cas's thighs. Dean hummed a low note of appreciation and pulled his own stiff dick into the open air for Castiel to see. Dean stroked slowly in demonstration, surprised that precum was already slicking his palm.

On screen the man was shoving the woman onto all fours. At his side, Castiel's fingers were wrapping around his own dick. Dean's hand moved automatically, driven by the tension coiling low in his gut, his eyes flicking back and forth between the two sights.

The woman in the porno yelped with each forceful thrust from behind. 

An unholy noise escaped from Castiel's throat as he completed the first slow pull, finally getting enough sensation.

The pornstar's tits bounced and swayed to the rhythm of the relentless pounding she was taking.

Castiel was finding his stride, jerking himself faster, gaze fixed on Dean and only Dean.

The image on screen cut to a close up of cock slamming into cunt.

Castiel lost all rhythm, pumping frantically with ragged breaths, close now, so close.

Dean's orgasm hit him suddenly. His hips snapped as the first splash of fluid striped his knuckles. "Cas-" he gasped.

Castiel groaned at the sound of his name, then again, louder, back arching, hand flashing quick over his cock. A moment later Cas's face twisted, then his whole body bucked and writhed as jets of cum splattered onto his shirt, his jacket, his tie.

Dean took it all in. A pleasantly satisfied warmth filled his belly as Cas unwound to lie slack against the cushions, turning to catch Dean's gaze and hold it. The angel's eyes were incredibly blue, the softest smile playing on his lips. Dean could only smile back, floating too high for words.

Then Dean heard the sound of the bedroom door opening.

He turned instinctively to face the sound, then turned back to find Cas already gone. Quickly, he stuffed his junk back into his underwear, just in the nick of time. Sam stepped into the room, then just as quickly turned away. "Ew, dude, seriously?"

Dean grinned at Sam's back as he left. "Sorry, dude."

"You're disgusting!" Sam yelled back.

"Hey, a man's got needs!"

"Keep it down out there, I'm trying to sleep!" The bedroom door slammed shut, and a cheeky grin spread across Dean's face. He cleaned himself up and turned off the TV before bedding down on the couch. 

Not at all because he hoped Cas would be back - of course not. Just giving Sammy some space is all.


End file.
